


Legacy

by jillyfae



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Deep Roads, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Grey Wardens, Hurt/Comfort, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-29
Updated: 2012-12-29
Packaged: 2017-11-22 20:50:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/614195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jillyfae/pseuds/jillyfae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Deep Roads are the Wardens' home away from home ... and frequently their worst nightmare.  A moment of peace in the darkness; the past might be gone, but that doesn't mean it can't offer comfort.</p><p>(Takes place during the Legacy DLC)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Legacy

Anders hated it underground. He'd hated it before he joined the Wardens, having hidden in a cave or two when he tried to escape Kinloch Hold, but they always made his lungs clench, his skin crawl.

Too much like a cage, the weight of the world above him too similar to the weight of the Tower, of iron bars, of stone and armored boots.

But then the Wardens. And Darkspawn. And everything that happened in Amaranthine. Being closed in by Templars again after he thought he'd escaped.

Dying.

Practically, anyways.

Simply living was almost like being trapped for Justice, the real world solid and tight around him in a way the Fade never was.

Even in his clinic, some days, he could feel the walls, too close, close enough to touch if he reached out his fingers, close enough to fall and bury him, lose everything he'd ever had.

The whispers made it worse. The evil giggles in the shadows.

Bethany could hear them too, of course. But she didn't hate the walls as much.

Not that she was happy.

She never really forgave him, or Hawke, for giving her to the Wardens whether she wanted to go or not.

He could not have survived watching her die.

Watching her twitch away the voices of darkspawn, even if she hated him, was at least slightly better.

He jerked awake, a grunt in the darkness of their camp, deep beneath the Carta's tunnels, on their way to somewhere else, somewhere worse, somewhere with darker, louder whispers than any he could ever remember hearing before.

They frightened Justice, whatever they were, the part of his soul that was usually so brave and sure and determined, hiding down under his heart, flickering with uncertainty.

And then the soft touch of a finger on his lips, and he blinked, trying to see through the gloom. There was a faint glow from the embers of the fire, but he'd settled behind a curve in the cave, desperate for some privacy, the illusion of escape from the whispers, and it wasn't enough to really see. Her face was just a shadow, but he recognized her hand, her warmth, the whisper of her hair brushing against his cheek right before her finger was replaced with her mouth.

She didn't say a thing, her hands slowly sliding down his arms, back to his chest, smoothing the fabric of his sleep-shirt across his skin. Perhaps she couldn't say the words, not yet, but her touch was gentle, soothing, offering both of them comfort in the darkness.

Neither of them were ready for forgiveness.

His skin felt hot at the touch of her hands, sliding under the hem of fabric to stroke up his stomach, his ribs, until she pulled the shirt off over his head. Her mouth moved then, along his jaw and down his neck, hands still sliding up and down his sides as her lips reached his collarbone.

He reached down to her legs, pulling up on her thighs to bring her back up to his mouth, kissing her hard this time, pushing up with tongue and chin and lips, fingers digging into warm naked skin.

Bethany tilted her hips, grinding down onto his hips, his cock, and he shuddered, his soft groan swallowed by her hot mouth. Desperate and aching, his hips bucked up, hard and fast, feeling her push back down upon him. He rolled them both over, her shoulders shifting upon the ground even as her hands reached down between them to tug on the ties of his loose breeches.

The stone was cold and hard on his palms as he pushed up to give her room, concentrating on his breathing, slow and quiet, trying not to pant or groan as she freed his cock.

He had to bite his lip and swallow past the ache in his throat when her hands left him, watching her shadow squirm beneath him as she wriggled out of her long shirt.

_Still doesn't wear smalls._

The memory made his cock throb, he felt so full, so heavy, harder than he'd been in years, _since the last time I was with her;_ he hadn't had sex since he'd lost her, had barely managed the occasional perfunctory wank with his hand to relieve some stress.

But now her hands were on his shoulders, her legs spread out past his hips, and he leaned in, one hand between her legs, adjusting the angle until he could push inside her.

She gasped, one high pitched breathy sound before she managed to close her mouth, to turn it into a soft hum beneath him. He shuddered at the feel of her, hot and wet and tight and perfect, so good he couldn't even groan as she clenched around him.

His elbows scraped against the cave as he shifted his weight, not that he cared, skinned joints were nothing in comparison to Bethany, the taste of her as his mouth found her breast, the sound of her breathing catch as he tongued her nipple and felt it harden and tighten inside his mouth.

He moved to the other breast, a scrape of teeth before he sucked her deep, feeling her body tense and arc beneath him, rolling in time with the shifting of his hips, back and forth, the slick feel of her body sliding and gripping around his cock every time they moved.

She was panting softly now, unable to keep her mouth closed or her body still, her nails digging into his back and shoulders as she arched beneath him, clenching harder, and harder yet, and he felt the shiver across her skin.

"Anders," she whispered softly, finally, the first time she'd spoken to him, his name warming her breath.

"Bethany," he sighed against her skin, his body jerking with relief, release, heat and pressure rolling through him until he spilled inside her.

He pulled himself up to her mouth to kiss her again, a soft push of lips, a soft sigh of mingle breath, shifting onto his side, pulling her along until her head settled on his arm, her mouth warm against his.

"I missed you." Her words were light, uncertain, her fingers hovering along his chest, her lips a breath away from his mouth.

 _And I love you_ , he mouthed into the darkness, unable to make his voice work, his heart caught in his throat, warm and aching. He felt her breath stutter against his cheek, as if she'd heard him anyway, and she shifted just enough to kiss him again. And again, as she pushed gently at his shoulders until they managed to slide back into his bedroll.

His mind was blissfully silent now, full of nothing except Bethany, her scent, her skin, her hair tickling against his jaw, her head a pleasant weight upon his shoulder as he fell back to sleep.


End file.
